Sometimes in a certain state of mind I begin to feel I can deconstruct the universe in elemental ways and make sense of the world we’re living in. Rarely do they seem to hold up in the morning.

But it strikes me that despite all the polarization and tension between Conservatives and Liberals (in specifically America, but potentially anywhere), both ideologies would not exist if they were not both rooted in something resembling a logical point of view. And zoomed out to the biggest of pictures, both seem to me to be able to be boiled down to distinct but equally rational philosophical perspectives on human history.

Liberals believe in the constant pursuit of a better world, “the more perfect union.” This means more diversity, more inclusion, more fairness, more humanity. Liberals’ ideal world can’t be pictured in the mind’s eye, the way many on the right long for a 1950’s ideal. The goal post is always moving, an infuriating fact for some who value tradition and a particular sense of personal “liberty,” especially when it comes to “political correctness.”

But any honest liberal person can acknowledge that inherent in the process of creating a better world is the tension of the status quo, a violent, often deadly tension, but an unavoidable one.

Where a Conservative might point to a terrorist attack and begin to see Muslim immigration as a risk not worth taking, Liberals consider those wounds, however tragic, aberrations and bumps in the road towards progress, perhaps avoidable if not for the ignorant pushback of their right-leaning counterparts who create us-vs-them dynamics between groups around the globe.

Conservatives, though, do not believe that level of sentimentality is sustainable. They feel the weight of the past. They see that no other civilization in history has lasted forever. Chief among the reasons they believe this is the case are the primary forces of government overreach and sweeping, premature change.

Where Liberals see the government as a tool of populist consensus meant to help protect the vulnerable and put it’s thumb down on the dial of progress, Conservatives mostly see the potential for even good intentions to fuck everything up for the sake of a naive fantasy.

Conservatives say they believe in a healthy restraint on the pace of progress, the way a parent might withhold R-rated movies from a child until a certain age. Liberals would accuse Conservatives of actually desiring to preserve a certain state of civilization that benefitted them (and often only them), but here’s the thing, there’s a hell of a logic to that.

Like I said, no civilization has ever survived the never-ending grind of time. And it is pretty logical to be wary of any new intrusion that could upset a favorable equilibrium, even if means shunning certain idealistic principles of inclusion and, yes, equality.

And what’s so wrong with Conservatives simply casting a more intimate net on the range of their compassion? Would we not all save our own son or daughter before a stranger? Conservatives simply extend love first to themselves (if they’re honest), then to their families, then their own communities, and often their church (sometimes in the form of actual charity and goodwill towards other communities). What energy and will are left over goes toward preserving the system that allows them to take care of their own. Whether the system necessarily gives others opportunity to do the same is a lesser priority. We take care of our own.

As for me, I often see Conservatism as buying a house, the biggest and newest in the neighborhood (the one with the best view) and falling in love with it. Only decades later, despite the leaks that have developed over the years and the new, more modern houses that have been built down the street and all the work to be done in the yard, they still insist they have the best house. Would it be so hard to address the problems of the house in which you take so much pride? With a little work it could indeed be that house (after all, it still has the best view). There is also no need to kick out the new guy you invited over earlier just because your pipes are leaking. He might even be an expert plumber.

Do those mixed metaphors discount the desire for pure personal liberty? Maybe. There is a lot of dichotomy and contradiction in our American values and constitution. Liberty and equality don’t always get along. Free Speech means the right to shit on all the other freedoms. Achieving the right balance means answering tough questions.

Now this is the part where I bring this all together to say how this means we are really all on the same team and advocate for better communication and healthy discussion and a healthy balance between conservative values and liberals one and the rest.

It’s Oscars night! I have a running tradition with a friend of exchanging our picks for every category, including who we think WILL win and, of course, who really SHOULD.

It’s Oscars night! And I have a running tradition with a friend of exchanging our picks for every category, including who we think WILL win and, of course, who really SHOULD win. Enjoy:

Best Picture

Arrival

Fences

Hacksaw Ridge

Hell or High Water

Hidden Figures

La La Land

Lion

Manchester by the Sea

Moonlight

Will Win: La La Land. For one, everybody has seen it, which goes a long way towards taking this award. Plus, everybody loves it, which is not to say it’s everyone’s favorite movie, but the way the voting is set up, if La La Land is at least everyone’s second choice while drama buffs spilt between Moonlight and Manchester, then it should coast. It has the momentum and nominations to be the safe the bet.

Should Win: Moonlight. It’s the most important movie of the year, while still being as cinematically and stylistically bold and inventive as La La Land, just in subtler ways that have gone unsung in the comparison. I also want to just mention Manchester by the Sea here because it broke me.

Directing

Denis Villeneuve, “Arrival”

Mel Gibson, “Hacksaw Ridge”

Damien Chazelle, “La La Land”

Barry Jenkins, “Moonlight”

Kenneth Lonergan, “Manchester by the Sea”

Will Win: Chazelle. To his credit, he did manage to paste together tons of seemingly at odds tone and genre elements, pull off some audacious set pieces and make it all feel cohesive enough to score a blockbuster Hollywood musical.

Should Win: Jenkins, for so many reasons. He pulled off having three actors play his protagonist, coaxed out some incredible child acting performances, shot the most beautiful movie of the year, made the genius choice to set it to classical music and made an art film that never got preachy, pretentious or boring.

Actor in a Leading Role

Casey Affleck, “Manchester by the Sea”

Andrew Garfield, “Hacksaw Ridge”

Ryan Gosling, “La La Land”

Viggo Mortensen, “Captain Fantastic”

Denzel Washington, “Fences”

Will Win: Affleck. It’s more than the performance of the year, it’s in the running for performance of the decade. It’s so subtle and complex, building so many emotional layers over the course of the movie that when there actually are moments of raw, unsuppressed emotion towards the end it feels so honest and authentic and heartbreaking.

Should Win: Affleck, but if the sexual harassment allegations against him turn off voters — and that is a conversation we should be having – I think Denzel would stand to benefit. He’d be second choice. Fences was an acting clinic.

Actor in a Supporting Role

Mahershala Ali, “Moonlight”

Jeff Bridges, “Hell or High Water”

Lucas Hedges, “Manchester by the Sea”

Dev Patel, “Lion”

Michael Shannon, “Nocturnal Animals”

Will Win: Ali, although I have a sneaking suspicion Dev Patel could steal this one. Lion has seemed to really win over a lot of hearts.

Should Win: Nothing would make me happier (or make me feel more validated as a longtime fan) than to see Michael Shannon accept an Oscar, but I have to go with Ali. I just love that character so much. His sympathetic, father figure drug dealer was such a subversive, moving and important lesson on the kind of empathy movies can inspire.

Actress in a Leading Role:

Emma Stone, “La La Land”

Natalie Portman, “Jackie”

Ruth Negga, “Loving”

Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins”

Isabelle Huppert, “Elle”

Will Win: Emma Stone, because she’s absolutely delightful in the year’s Best Picture frontrunner. And truth be told, it’s really the culmination of this kind of old school, classically Hollywood, spunky leading lady career arc she’s had where she seems to play shades of herself but with an undeniably infectious cinematic charisma. I’m all for it! And God knows women don’t get as much credit for that kind of thing as their male counterparts, but…

Should Win: Portman and it’s not even close. Her Jackie Kennedy surpassed her Oscar-winning Black Swan performance, going well beyond skillful impersonation to become a complex, riveting portrayal of grief. It’s a performance that works as historical biography, but would also work as the story of a grieving widow without the big Kennedy name attached. That takes real skill.

Actress in a Supporting Role

Viola Davis, “Fences”

Naomie Harris, “Moonlight”

Nicole Kidman, “Lion”

Octavia Spencer, “Hidden Figures”

Michelle Williams, “Manchester by the Sea”

Will Win: This is the hardest category to call this year. They are all so incredible. But I’ll give the edge to Davis, only because I think she benefits from being a lead role performance undercover in this category. But any of these performances could take it.

Should Win: Davis is the best performance here (did I mention Fences is an acting clinic?). But because I think she should be in the Lead category, I’ll say Michelle Williams. Manchester is also an acting clinic and Williams makes so much of just a couple scenes, including that chance meeting scene that led to the most tears from me of any scene this year.

Adapted screenplay

“Lion,” by Luke Davies

“Arrival,” by Eric Heisserer

“Moonlight,” by Barry Jenkins

“Hidden Figures,” by Theodore Melfi and Allison Schroeder

“Fences,” by August Wilson

Will Win: Jenkins is going to get screwed tonight, but hopefully he will somewhat get his due here.

Should Win: Jenkins.

Original screenplay

“Manchester by the Sea,” by Kenneth Lonergan

“Hell or High Water,” by Taylor Sheridan

“La La Land,” by Damien Chazelle

“20th Century Women,” Mike Mills

“The Lobster,” by Efthymis Filippou and Yorgos Lanthimos

Will Win: La La Land, which is a shame. Writing is not the strength of that movie.

Should Win: Lonergan, but should out to Mike Mills. 20th Century Women is awesome.

Cinematography

Bradford Young, “Arrival”

Linus Sandgren,“La La Land”

Greig Fraser, “Lion”

James Laxton, “Moonlight”

Rodrigo Prieto, “Silence”

Will Win: La La Land. And it sure is pretty. Some of those tracking shot set pieces will make it hard to complain.

Should Win: Moonlight. Because it’s fucking gorgeous.

Documentary feature

“Fire at Sea”

“I am Not Your Negro”

“Life, Animated”

“OJ: Made in America”

“13th”

Will Win: OJ: Made in America. It certainly gets some help from the long running time and event tv-like feel of its release.

Should Win: OJ. I’ve never seen anything like it. Coming on the heels of the FX series it should have felt like retread. Instead it felt like one of the most eye opening and unique dissections of race in the US I’ve ever seen or read. And that’s saying something in a year where truly unforgettable documentaries about race refreshingly filled up the nominations. So much love for 13th and I am Not Your Negro, also.

Original score

Justin Hurwitz, “La La Land”

Mica Levi, “Jackie”

Nicholas Britell, “Moonlight”

Volker Bertelmann and Dustin O’Halloran, “Lion”

Thomas Newman, “Passengers”

Will Win: Hurwitz. The music from the big musical will triumph.

Should Win: Mica Levi. That score was hypnotic and I think more essential to the tone and execution of the movie than even La La Land. But I may still be high on her score for Under the Skin.

*I either have not seen enough of the movies for or do not have a strong enough opinion about the following categories for a Will Win/Should Win section. These are just my (sometimes arbitrary) predictions in bold.

Goldfine’s vocals are the secret ingredient setting these songs apart. His smooth and soulful croon is versatile enough to carry both an upbeat rock anthem and a soft ballad while never losing his wholly original fragility.

I met Jake Goldfine during my junior year in college at Syracuse. We were neighbors and spent many a PBR-fueled night jamming together in the weary hours after a party, he on his guitar and me on my keyboard. Towards the end of my college career we formalized the partnership under the very regrettable name “Palm Full” (thought we argued about it often, we could never agree on another name to make the much needed change) and debuted a few of our original songs that I contend still hold up.

However, after graduation I moved on to New York City and refocused my creative energy into my writing. Jake, though, moved to Los Angeles where he continued to hone his songwriting and musicianship.

He has come a long damn way.

This month Goldfine released Half the Way from Shore, a three-song EP with guitarist David Mosca under the name Maxwell Edison (the EP is hosted on SoundCloud under Goldfine’s alias Jacob Bicycle). When the two of us had recorded a few of our songs in college, we struggled to translate our living room rock set into a polished recording, but LA-based producer Mike Oliviero has clearly helped Goldfine fine tune his production skills. These songs come to life with all the intricacies, instrumental Easter eggs, and sonic consistency of a thoroughly thought out, professional record.

But Half the Way from Shore is mostly a testament to Goldfine’s strengthening songwriting and sharp pop sensibility. An east coast lifer adrift in Los Angeles at the time of the EP’s recording, the songs appropriately play like melancholy, New York City songer-songwriter fare trapped inside California pop-rock shimmer. His soulful ballads of heartbreak and love-beyond-grasp often slip into pop punk breakdowns and harmony-filled interludes.

The EP begins with “Heart’s Web,” a ready-for-radio (perhaps even too polished?) anthem about the inherent risks of falling in love. The pretty pop track track is slickly constructed over an Alt-J-reminiscent indie R&B beat. The second track, “Poets,” shows off Goldfine’s tender lyrics -“the words allude me like a million flies circling ’round a light” – and becomes a cleverly self-aware reflection on the cliche repetitiveness of guitar-strapped singers and their lovesick ballads. That the song drifts into a wordless, sweepingly melodic chorus seems to suggest that some sparks are too joyous and profound to be captured in a simple, lyrical verse.

Both songs show promise, but “From When I Took a Walk,” the third and final track, is the real gem of the EP. The song perfectly marries the songwriting prowess evident in “Poets” with Goldfine’s penchant for go-for-broke hooks (“Heart’s Web”). It is also the best showcase for Goldfine’s vocals, the secret ingredient setting the EP apart. His smooth and soulful croon is versatile enough to carry both an upbeat rock song and a soft ballad while never losing his wholly original fragility – part Death Cab with a slight reggae overtones.

It can be hard to be objective about a friend’s work, but it is easy to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed these songs and was drawn to listen to them over and over again. They work perfectly as sweetly digestable pop, but also capture an artist who may not yet have fully crystallized the complex sound he wants to put into the world, but is well on his way (and leaps and bounds ahead of where he was back when we played together).

The inability to distinguish Islam and terrorism is ignorant. Acting on that ignorance on this scale is rascism.

Those of us who didn’t vote for Trump had to deal with two months worth of mocking for protesting and criticizing him “before he even did anything.” We were told to be patient and give him a chance, as if taking him at his word and being worried that he would do what he spent a year and a half stubbornly promising to do, despite bipartisan condemnation, was some sort of delusional overreaction.

There was a lot that happened this past week I disagreed with. Some were actions any Republican president would have taken, ones I disagree with strongly but am capable of swallowing and committing to pushing back in the ways we as citizens can. Ones that, if they were all he had promised to do, would not have been met with the level of opposition that has gotten under the skin of so many on the right.

Some were more egregious. And the level of immaturity and recklessness with which this administration is running so far seems unprecedented.

But this refugee/immigration ban? It dwarfs it all. It’s the definition of racism. Its broad ban by nationality has long since been ruled illegal. It includes a religious preference that is glaringly unconstitutional. It doesn’t make us safer — how many defense experts have to explain how alienating muslim communities promotes radicalization? It’s not even consistent — the order goes on and on about 9/11, but the ban doesn’t even include Egypt or Saudi Arabia, you know, where most the 9/11 hijackers came from (I’m sure that’s not because of any economic interests we have in those countries).

The inability to distinguish Islam and terrorism is ignorant. Acting on that ignorance on this scale is rascism. Supporting it is either fear or hatred or both (neither of which is particularly “tough” or American). And leaving refugees of war stranded, a mistake this country has made before, is the least compassionate, least Christian thing I can think of (but then I always forget that part of the bible where Jesus said the compassion we’re supposed to have for life exclusively applies to American fetuses. Although I do love his riff on arbitrarily intensifying already extensive, years-long screening processes before you’re obligated to help the needy. JC was such a policy wonk.).

I have friends, and have seen dozens more posts already about friends of friends, whose families will be affected by this immoral order, families who have lived in the US for years, decades even, and now can not visit relatives or go on vacation outside of the US and be allowed to return. And that is the more pleasant end of the spectrum of those affected. I take it personally.

It’s only been a week. And I seem to remember another campaign promise about registering Muslims in the US. If it comes to that, those who support it will have lost my all my good will and respect.

Another great year of live music filled with trusty favorites, pleasant surprises and not one, but two, dream-come-true reunions.

1. Low Cut Connie/Dirty Fences – April 9 – Bowery Ballroom

I bookended my year with two shows from those Philly-throwbacks Low Cut Connie. I’ve been following them for awhile, but their show at the Bowery Ballroom in April — sorry, the video is from a December show I saw. I couldn’t find any from April — was special.

Frontman Adam Weiner with his piano Shondra always brings an unmatched level of honky tonk energy (standing on his piano bench and beckoning the crowd to “get weird”), whether the show be in a tiny bar off I-95 in Wilmington or in a larger theater like the Bowery. But that Saturday was one of those nights where a magic current seems to be running through the crowd putting everyone on the same dance-ready page. It helped that they had the perfect opener: an ambiguously-aged punk group called Dirty Fences that I had never heard of prior to this show. Both bands’ carefree antics gave the show the feel of a house party, despite the prestige of the Bowery.

A few days later, when I needed another musician’s input for a story about HB2 in North Carolina, I got on the phone with Weiner and talked politics and Bruce Springsteen for a half hour. He was a true mensch.

2. Wolf Parade – April 17 – Bowery Ballroom

In middle school (at the onset of my obsession with indie, alternative, whatever you want to call it) I fell in love with a song from Canada’s Wolf Parade called “Shine a Light.” It’s still one of my favorite songs and I can remember listening to it via headphones on the bus every morning and imagining how powerful the fuck-9-to-5-life anthem would be live … if I only had a way to drive to a show. Then they broke up and I lamented that I would never get the chance.

This year Wolf Parade reunited and I was lucky enough be at their first show back together at Bowery Ballroom – the first of a week-long, sold out residency. Seeing Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug (who each went on to found quite a few criminally underrated solo projects, including Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown) on the same stage, in my favorite venue, tearing through their decade-old setlist with more than a few nerves (they admitted as much) was magical. Nothing about the night, including “Shine a Light,” was a letdown. I saw them a few weeks later at a free show in McCarren Park as part of Northside Music Festival, but compared to an intimate return show, among nothing but giddy super fans, it was just not the same.

September was my 12th Springsteen show. The Boss was my first concert, back in 2002, and it sparked a permanent lust for live music. On this night, my girlfriend was being “baptized”(as my Dad puts it) into the church that is a Springsteen show and his fans. Her favorite song of his? The Born in the U.S.A. deep cut “I’m Goin’ Down” (Vampire Weekend had previously covered it). Despite the rarity of the song making the set list, I wasn’t surprised when a half hour into the show, Bruce picked up his guitar and roared into her choice track, spontaneously queued by a sign request from a fan in the pit. That is the magic of a Springsteen show, with the improvised set lists, powerful E Street Band musicianship and contagious passion. Every show feels curated just for you and leaves you wanting for nothing.

My Dad’s favorite song? “Racing in the Street.” Mine? “New York City Serenade” (these days, anyway) or “Promised Land.” All three of those were played too.

66 years old (now 67). 4 hours 3 minutes. A hot, humid night in Philly. Still nothing like it.

I’m a big believer in the idea that the venue, or, more accurately, the environment, makes the show. Context is key and the right vibe can elevate a show or make an otherwise reliable band feel like a disappointment. That is why multiple sets at the inaugural Panorama Music Festival are getting the collective nod here.

Five years ago now I went to the first ever Firefly Music Festival in Dover, Delaware. I was a volunteer (I couldn’t afford to pay to be there) and the festival cleared just about 40,000 people in the “woodlands” of my home state. I’ve been back all but one year since and in that time the fest has ballooned to near 100,000. It is still always fun, but that year it felt like an under-the-radar secret (as under the radar as 40,000 people can be anyway).

Nothing was too crowded, it was always possible to get relatively close to even a headliner just 15 minutes before the start of the set and it was not yet trendy enough to attract the more party-concerned crowd with no actual interest in the music — If that sounds too pretentious, well, tough, it’s true. Last year you would have needed a flare gun to find a friend in the crowd even 100 yards from the stage.

Panorama this past summer reminded me of that first Firefly. It was as under the radar and intimate as a NYC Kendrick Lamar/LCD/Arcade Fire-headlining event could possibly be, largely overshadowed by the popular and well established Gov Ball weeks earlier at the same Randall’s Island location. It was littered with fascinating art installations and themed tents that topped anything I’d seen at other events, featured some authentically delicious NYC food (shout out to the Roberta’s Pizza booth) and maneuvering it all was relatively painless despite some seriously sweltering heat.

I showed up late on Friday night with Arcade Fire being my one and only true priority. Without any new material to back them up, my longtime favorite band delivered a routinely sharp and joyous headlining set, even marching into the crowd afterwards to cover the late-great David Bowie with New Orleans’ Preservation Hall Jazz Band at one of the art installations.

After skipping Saturday with other plans (when you are there on a press pass you don’t have to feel guilty about it), I returned for one of the best triple-headers of live music I’ve ever seen, beginning with Run the Jewels.

The festival came just weeks after Bernie Sanders’ defeat in the Democratic Presidential primary race and Killer Mike, one half of RTJ, was a vocal and active surrogate for Sanders’ campaign. Many of the NYC fans at the show clearly sympathized with Mike’s ideology. There was a palpable energy in the air for the already-charismatic duo to harness.

“This feels like a political rally,” said my girlfriend.

It did.

“…but like the the best political rally ever,” she added.

Yup. Easily the best hip hop show I’d ever seen.

I expected RTJ to be great, but I was blindsided by the next act I saw. I had planned to use Sia‘s set to rest, eat, come down from a high and gear up for LCD Soundsystem’s impending dance party, but when I saw what appeared to be indie comedian Tig Notaro on stage using some glass ball to reflect light out at the audience, I was intrigued enough to chase after my girlfriend and check it out for myself.

I had been duped. While the video screens showed Tig sitting stoically in a chair shining a light on the crowd, the person on the stage doing it for real was just a dancer body double. I wasn’t upset. I was thrilled. As the set progressed, Sia repeated the routine with a myriad of celebrities — everyone from Kristen Wiig to Ben fucking Mendelsohn — who had recorded various performance art pieces projected on the screens with pristine cinematic lighting, but reenacted by anonymous dancers on stage. All the while, Sia stood motionless on a small platform behind the dancers belting from beneath her signature black and white wig.

It is no understatement to say that the show altered my conception of what a live show could be. Gone was any pretense of the rock & roll-style frontman I had grown up expecting from a live music act. And while I have seen many bands shy away from the spotlight while playing and hide in ornate light shows (ahem, Beach House), I had never seen an artist, let alone a pop artist, take such a backseat to that kind of curated performance art experience at their own show. It gave me a newfound appreciation for Sia’s artistry, incredible vocal chops and uniquely off kilter pop songs. It also introduced me to the genius Maddie Ziegler, who was an unexpected treat to see in person.

Then came the reunited LCD Soundsystem, a band I never thought I would see live after getting into them well after their infamously premature retirement. It was a surreal to be at a James Murphy dance party, even if I would have preferred a smaller, indoor club to festival grounds, and LCD managed to just about meet my high expectations. The highlight? My girlfriend and I breaking out into hysterical laughter in the middle of the bands’ 12 minute version of “Yeah.” Every time we thought the excessive jam was over, Murphy would come roaring back with a fresh round of “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahs” leaving our fairly faded minds in giddy disbelief. It was so, so dumb and so, so good.

5. Twin Peaks – December 9 – Webster Hall

I already waxed poetic about the joys of a Twin Peaks show in my Favorite Albums post, so I won’t repeat myself here. Suffice to say, if you have a chance to see these guys live, go. On this occasion I got caught in the middle of the biggest mosh pit I’ve ever been a part of. I generally hate those things and avoid them like the plague, but for whatever reason on this night I indulged. It was a wild show. I ruined a pair of brown leather boots, lost my friends and unwittingly spilled a full IPA on a poor, unsuspecting girl.

Honorable Mentions:

Chrvches was the highlight of my Firefly 2016 experience (one of many); The Dig continues to be one of the most reliable Brooklyn bands around and their set at Baby’s All Right in the Spring was a blast. I’m stoked for the new album and a new show next month; Slow Club, one of my favorites, redeemed a so-so new album with a stunning acoustic set at the never-disappointing (Le) Poisson Rouge (speaking of great venues/environments); Beach House was beautiful at the equally beautiful King’s Theater and I remained conscious this time, unlike a previous try at Webster Hall; Angel Olsen kicked ass at Webster Hall and ended in time for us to catch the end of the Georgia-Mizzou game.

I didn’t listen to all the music in 2016. No one did. This is not a definitive list of anything, but these are some damn good albums…

Lemonade – BEYONCE

I don’t think any album, since maybe Yeezus, checked this many boxes and left such a seismic cultural impact. The album was a blockbuster hit, the rollout (Bey’s second straight out of nowhere release) was genius and the accompanying visual album stunning. It was a concept album stuffed with social commentary you could dance to and seamlessly spanned seemingly every genre of music. It sparked controversy and acclaim, topped charts and the news cycle, yet if you disappear into it start to finish (especially the video), Lemonade still feels miraculously intimate and personal.

Just a couple years ago I would have balked at the idea of me topping a favorite albums of the year list with a pop album, but I like to think I’ve grown a bit less pretentious. Then again, Pitchfork named Lemonade the 3rd best album of the year, so maybe I’m still full of shit.

Blackstar – DAVID BOWIE

You already know David Bowie is the man. You already know why this album is so achingly poignant. For those that have not listened, for my money it would hold up as a masterpiece without the tragic context of his death.

My Woman – ANGEL OLSEN

I really loved Angel Olsen’s last album and this one only further cements the North Carolina-based songwriter as one of my absolute favorite artists. Here Olsen’s reliably edgy songwriting gets funneled through a more intricately produced sound that is big and brash, echoing the Americana of 50’s era rock & roll while still sounding fresh. What a beautiful vehicle for an unapologetically pissed off songwriter.

Seeing her live was one of the best shows of the year for me, partly because it wrapped just in time for my SEC lady friend and I to catch the thrilling end to the Georgia-Missouri football game in the Village Tavern across the street — an early bright spot in the Dawgs’ subsequently disappointing season (Side note: Olsen was born in Missouri .. awkward). We happened upon an exceedingly friendly, but awfully drunk, UGA alum who only found himself in the bar that night because he was forced to evacuate his apartment that night thanks to that pesky Manhattan dumpster bomb situation. He “didn’t give a fuck” about the bomb and just wanted to get in his bed.

I Had A Dream That You Were Mine – HAMILTON LEITHAUSER + ROSTAM

I was aware of Rostam’s career with Vampire Weekend before this album. I had never heard of Leithauser. The pairing is a match made in musical heaven. A little bit Edward Sharpe, a little bit Shakey Graves, a little bit Vampire Weekend (of course). Few albums in 2016 provided more songs I enjoy queuing up outside of the context of the album and just rocking out to.

Fool – FRANKIE COSMOS

Greta Kline, daughter of Kevin and better known as Frankie Cosmos, is only 22 years old. 22. She makes me feel fucking terrible about myself. Next Thing is already the DIY pop rock queen’s second wonderful album. And “I watch David Blaine, find myself believing in anything, in many thing” is my lyric of the year. I have to see her live again. The first time is a bit … hazy.

Pyschopomp – JAPANESE BREAKFAST

I came across Japanese Breakfast because they were opening for Mitski at a show I had tickets for at Music Hall of Williamsburg. I quickly became more excited to see them than the headliner, to the continued disgust of a girl named Stephanie. To me, this album had similar confessional, heartbroken themes to the more acclaimed Mitski, but on top of a more sonic, anthem-y sound that I just dug more. I mean, “Everybody Wants to Love You” is just a perfect song.

Down in Heaven – TWIN PEAKS

There are certainly bands I like more, but none has made me a more loyal ticket buyer over the past year and a half than Twin Peaks. I’ve seen them 4 times in that timespan. Their shows are endlessly fun, playfully rowdy, and so communal — almost every member of the band sings and their fans have a cult-like adoration for the young Chicagoans. Their albums do an admirable job of channeling that good time, all while merging some of my favorite sounds and influences: pop punk, Velvet Underground’s lazy cool, 60’s psychedelia. They also have the coolest merch in the game.

Teens of Denial – CAR SEAT HEADREST

A late addition to the list, I checked in on Teens of Denial just three weeks ago, inspired by end of the year roundups and a friend’s praise, only to discover I had starred (Spotify for life!) “Fill in the Blank” months before. I should have gone deeper earlier. Will Toledo’s songs are angsty, melodic and masterfully constructed to build up and crash again with a beautiful intensity. Give me another month and this will likely have been my true favorite album of 2016.

Blonde – FRANK OCEAN

Blonde‘s first song, Nikes, is a shot across the music world’s bough. For fans that waited, often impatiently, for years for the new release, they are at first greeted with a jarringly high pitched rendering of the R&B/rapper’s croon. When Ocean’s true voice finally drops, the verse of the year comes with it, taking aim at fans, critics and society alike, all set to a hypnotic drone of a beat. It’s brilliant Then comes the rest of the album. Also, brilliant.

Puberty 2 – MITSKI

Mitski perplexes me. I was late to the party and caught up fast before seeing her early this year at Music Hall of Williamsburg. I prefer, Bury Me at Makeout Creek, to the new album and while I really love much of the music, I admit I’m not as high on her as more than a few people in my life who swear by her with a sort of voice-of-our-generation fervor. But I find myself coming back to Puberty 2 again and again, fragments or lines from the album stuck in my head.

Mitski is great, in part, because of the uniqueness of her voice in the very-white alt music scene and the perspective she brings, one that for obvious penis-shaped reasons is sometimes foreign to me. All I can say is I get more out of this album with each listen and I’ve spent much of the year arguing with my girlfriend not about if it is great, but how great. She is usually right.

A friend (somewhat sarcastically) suggested I take things like this off social media and to a blog or website. I’m trying to follow that advice.

(11.9.2016)

So the silent majority spoke. And this morning I experienced another kind of silence.

There are few things I love about New York City more than the subway, despite all the stress it may cause. People of every color and creed and gender and age and income bracket squeezed in next to each other going about their day. It is the great equalizer. And it feels like America.

Today the subway, which is usually loud and bustling and chaotic, was silent. Dead silent. An eerie silence, as if everyone together had lost someone close to them. You could feel the anxiety and the fear.

I am myself so afraid. And I wonder if that is the same feeling of fear so many of the white working class people who elected this man feel about the change they see in the world. If so, what a shame that is and what a stark divide we face.

Over the last 8 years, and the only presidency for which I have been fully aware and awake, I have taken such pride in how I have tangibly, observably seen my friends of color stand up and demand equality, the smart, strong women in my life become more empowered and my LGBT friends find a more accepting world.

I know not everyone is as happy as I am to see that, but I can guarantee you that young people in this country by and large know that change to be good and just, even if we take it for granted.

I have admired watching an historic president defy every stereotype and challenge to his legitimacy while acting as a beacon of restraint and integrity and compassion on the world stage.

We can argue about to what extent this election is a threat to that progress, but I feel the fear and anxiety and my heart breaks for it.

I know a lot of white people in this country feel pain. I know the global economy has not been kind to the working class. I know so many voted out of frustration with a political system that ignored their problems and allowed corporations to ship their jobs overseas while running up the national debt. I know obamacare is imperfect.

But the man they have turned to plans to strip 20 million people of their health care, to lower taxes on the wealthy who have benefitted from the system the “political elite” gave them, to repeal the regulations on a financial industry that helped bring down the economy, all while pretending he was ever someone who was in touch with the everyman. He is also grossly incompetent and unqualified.

And those people have re-elected a whole Congress full of the same congressional Republicans who are, at the very least, half at fault for the problems that make them so angry.

That is a startling display of cognitive dissonance to me. And the numbers from this election reveal that the poorer the voter, the more likely they were to vote for … Clinton, while the whiter the voter, the more likely they were to vote for Trump.

I am only left to conclude that, yes, the appeal had much more to do with his promise to rid the country of immigrants, and put black Americans in their place, and ignore women crying out for equality and control over their bodies, and scapegoat a whole religion for a complicated global issue. Easy, emotional fixes to multifaceted, difficult problems.

I hope those on the right govern with compassion. The groups Trump has disparaged in this campaign have been oppressed since well before the TPP and all those factors driving discontent in the Rust Belt.

I am sad. I am afraid. I don’t know how we bridge this divide. I suspect it will take more mobilization and less social media pontification. I believe we need to reach out to those who offend us with empathy and compassion instead of condescension if we are to really change hearts and minds.

I am angry when I see people eager to see their newsfeeds free of politics again. By all means, be relieved this election is over, be relieved to be free of the horse race and the debates and whichever candidates made your blood boil. But I can’t help but think that the disengagement and disinterest in our system and how it affects the lives of not just ourselves, but others, is part of why we ended up here. And I don’t just mean the results of the election.

Celebrate the end of the election, but do not turn away from politics. Politics and the political establishment are not one in the same.

I ended my day back on the subway, getting on a train at 14th street station after happy hour drinks with my girlfriend because we felt we had to see each other so urgently. Two trumpet players played a slow, melancholy version of Louis Armstrong’s “Wonderful World” for tips together on the platform while a Latino man nearby cried his eyes out and his two friends wrapped their arms around him.

I love New York and I love this country and I promise to do whatever I can these next four years to make sure all of my friends’ voices are heard and that they feel love.

I will not hesitate to support anything positive that comes out of a Trump presidency, but I believe a great challenge is ahead of us.